


All Of Your Distractions

by LivinOnARarePair



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivinOnARarePair/pseuds/LivinOnARarePair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is adding some new things to his yoga routine. Jamie is particularly interested in one. Tyler doesn't finish his yoga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Of Your Distractions

Tyler likes doing yoga. It doesn’t really matter where he does it, and he spends more time at Jamie’s anyway, and Jamie doesn’t mind when Tyler stores his mat under the couch, so really there’s no reason for him to go back to his own apartment to do it.

Besides, Jamie likes to watch.

The first time, he’d been in the kitchen, looking for something to fix them for breakfast, though it was, and always is, a useless endeavor. Tyler had been moving the coffee table, and well, he’d been bent over in yoga pants, of course Jamie had come running. He’d had to lean against the couch to keep from falling over, and Tyler had smiled to himself when he bent over again to roll out his mat, because he loved being able to do this to Jamie, to leave him unsteady with arousal.

Jamie had stuck around, eventually having to sit on the arm of the couch to keep upright, and watched, captivated, as Tyler did his routine. Tyler tried to focus, but curiosity made him glance over a couple times. He still doesn’t know if Jamie blinked once the entire time.

After, he’d let Tyler kneel between his legs and suck him off slow. And ever since, Tyler has done his yoga in Jamie’s living room every morning. Jamie doesn’t pretend he doesn’t get off on it anymore, but he doesn’t go so far as to actually jerk off while Tyler does it, either. He just sits there, staring, pressing the heel of his hand to his cock through his sweats when it gets to be too much. Tyler finds it stupidly endearing.

It’s still summer when Tyler adds a few new things to his routine. The first few are simple, easy. Then he goes to the floor and does a few usual things. Then he lays back, planting his hands and feet on the floor and pushes up into a bridge. He straightens his legs out and pushes back on his hands so his head is over his hands.

He’s trying to concentrate, keeping his eyes closed and focusing on his breathing. Trying to focus. But he hears Jamie’s sharp inhale, and his focus is shot all to hell. He twists around to look at Jamie, keeping the position as best he can. Jamie’s staring, for a change, his mouth open a little, hand pressed to the front of his sweats. His eyes are wide, tracing the arch of Tyler’s body before settling somewhere around Tyler’s hips.

“I wanna fuck you like that,” he says, voice quiet and hoarse with arousal. And Tyler’s never heard Jamie be that forward. He’d had to learn the cues early on, because Jamie never says out loud when he wants to have sex.

Until now, apparently.

“You can if you want to,” Tyler says, grinning.

Jamie’s eyes snap to his face, and he looks like he’d forgotten Tyler was there, connected to the body. Then he blushes and ducks his head with the shy smile Tyler loves.

“Sorry. I distracted you,” he says quietly.

“It’s fine,” Tyler says, just as softly. He drops back out of the bridge, because he can feel his face turning red from the increased blood flow to his head. “Can you prep me like this, though? I don’t think I could stay upside down that long.”

Jamie opens his mouth, then closes it.

“Jamie?” Tyler says.

“Are you serious?” Jamie asks.

“Totally,” Tyler shrugs. “If you want to, I’m game.”

“I really love you sometimes,” Jamie says, retrieving the lube from the drawer of the side table and moving to kneel on the floor between Tyler’s knees.

“Only sometimes?” Tyler feigns hurt.

“Always,” Jamie says, leaning up and running his hands up under Tyler’s t-shirt. Tyler reaches up to get his hands on Jamie’s shoulders, pull him down into a kiss. Jamie kisses him hard, tongue pushing into his mouth and _claiming_. Tyler loves when Jamie gets like this. It’s great when Jamie wants to do it slow and lasting, but Tyler especially loves when Jamie just _takes_. When he makes Tyler feel it for days, leaves bruises that last longer, like he’s going for now, pressing his fingertips into Tyler’s hips, hard enough that Tyler will probably be able to trace the blue-gray loops and whirls later. Tyler moans into the kiss, pushing his hips up into Jamie’s. And Jamie pushes him down and holds him there.

“Stay,” Jamie threatens when he leans back.

Usually Tyler would push back, because that’s just what he does, but today he stays where he is, because he wants to see where Jamie takes this. Jamie teases Tyler as he opens him up, leaving Tyler shaking on the floor and wondering if Jamie will ever have mercy on him and just _do it_ already. And finally when he’s just losing hope, Jamie dives forward, hands wrapping around Tyler’s wrists, pinning him to the mat, mouth finding Tyler’s.

“Jamie . . . _please_ ,” Tyler gasps into the kiss.

Jamie leaves him with one last lingering kiss before releasing him and standing.

“Up,” Jamie commands.

Tyler shudders and pushes up into a bridge again. He’s shaking, and he doubts he’ll be able to stay up very long.

“You’re too short,” Jamie frowns, hands tight on Tyler’s hips.

Tyler twists around to look, and sure enough, his hips are a little lower than Jamie’s. “So . . . Wait . . . Here . . . ,” he says, wrapping one leg around Jamie’s hips. Jamie gets a hand under Tyler’s thigh and hikes his leg a little higher, so it’s hooked on Jamie’s hipbone.

“That works,” Jamie says. “Are you going to be able to stay like this?”

“I’ll try,” Tyler says, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breathing.

“Let me know if you need to move, okay?” Jamie says.

“Yeah,” Tyler says. “Jamie, please.”

“Okay, okay,” Jamie says, stroking his hands down Tyler’s trembling thighs. Jamie pushes his sweats down out of the way and lines himself up. He pushes in slow and looses the filthiest moan Tyler’s ever heard. It makes Tyler whimper and shiver in Jamie’s hands.

“Fuck, Tyler. Feel so good like this. So fucking tight,” Jamie says.

“Fuck,” Tyler practically sobs, because this is basically the best thing ever. Jamie’s in so deep, his hips snug against Tyler’s, and it does feel tighter, Tyler pressing Jamie in from every side and holding him there.

And then Jamie starts to move and somehow that’s about a million times better. He keeps his thrusts gentle but presses in so deep every time, and it’s hot and slick and tight and _perfect_. Luckily for Tyler’s arms, this isn’t going to last long.

“Tyler, Tyler, fuck,” Jamie’s babbling.

Tyler loves when Jamie gets like this, too, so turned on he just says whatever comes to mind and can’t stop it. Tyler loves to hear Jamie swear when they’re like this, because it just sounds so much filthier.

“Fucking love you, Tyler.”

And then there’s that. Tyler knows he’s sincere, because Jamie isn’t thinking about what he’s saying. He’s just saying whatever he keeps beneath that stupid ball cap that he’s always wearing. Tyler twists around to look at Jamie, and yep, he’s wearing his favourite cap even now. Tyler wants to laugh, but just then, Jamie hits his prostate, and Tyler’s too busy seeing stars to even think.

“Fuck, Jamie. Right there.”

“Yeah, Tyler,” Jamie says.

He tightens his grip on Tyler’s hips and starts to drive in just that much harder. It’s fucking with Tyler’s balance.

“Jamie, Jamie, I can’t . . . ,” Tyler says. His arms are shaking, and he’s not going to be able to hold himself up much longer.

Suddenly, Jamie gets his arms around Tyler’s waist and hauls him up so they’re chest to chest. Tyler makes an embarrassing surprised noise and gets his hands on Jamie’s shoulders, clinging as if for his life. Jamie gets one hand under Tyler’s thigh, holding him up. And . . .

“Oh, fuck, _fuck_ , Jamie,” Tyler gasps.

Yeah, this position is pretty nice, too. Jamie’s nailing Tyler’s prostate on every stroke now, and Tyler is done, coming between them with an embarrassingly breathy moan. Jamie follows a moment later, crushing Tyler to him as he spills inside him.

Tyler continues to cling to Jamie as they’re coming down, and Jamie sinks to sit on the couch, still holding Tyler tightly. Jamie catches his breath first, trailing his mouth down Tyler’s throat.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” he murmurs against Tyler’s collarbone.

“I don’t know,” Tyler says on an exhale and laughs against Jamie’s hat. “What is it with you and this hat?”

“You like it,” Jamie says, tilting his face up and kissing Tyler.

“Maybe a little,” Tyler says and kisses him again.

Jamie uproots Tyler and gets him on his back on the couch, pinning his wrists and kissing him again. Tyler laughs and pushes at him playfully.

“You fucker,” Tyler giggles between kisses. “Now I’m going to have to start over.”

Jamie leans back, grinning. “Can I watch?”

Tyler goes on the offensive then, struggling to flip them over, and managing to get them to the floor, but Jamie has the advantage and gets him on his back on his yoga mat, pinning Tyler’s wrists again and kissing him. “You jizzed on my shirt; I think we’re even.” 

And before Tyler can protest, Jamie’s kissing him again.


End file.
